Action
by atyinso
Summary: Riven held value in action. She has no time for dreams or hesitation.
1. Dreams and Hesitation

Riven did not dream.

Well, that was not completely true. Riven dreamed in her sleep—everyone did—but that's the only time she ever does.

Dreaming while awake was foolish. Take Demacians for example, a group of people that would rather rely on words to sway people instead of action. Rallying was important for morale and Riven understood that, but it was useless without action.

Noxians, on the other hand, valued strength and the ability to use it. If Noxians wanted something, they'd take it by force, not with fragile treaties and agreements.

Riven knew how to use her strength, and she was one of the strongest people around.

Riven was the epitome of Noxian ideals. She was strong and had the scars—both mental and physical—to prove it.

She might be branded as a traitor to Noxus now, but she still held herself with dignity. The Noxus now was not the one she believed in, and she knew many others agreed. It was her strength that made her such a popular League champion, even amongst Noxians that should be shunning her for deserting her post. Most would never admit it—for it would be treason—but many still looked up to her, even though her days of being a poster child were long over, even though she was a shell of her former self.

Still, Riven was strong. Riven does not dream.

She _accomplishes_.

Riven trained everyday to hone her skills, and today was no different.

In a swift, fluid motion, the exile effortlessly tore apart the training dummy.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Ahri entering the training room and heading straight for her. Even without looking directly at her, she could feel the mage's predatory stare.

Ahri was an annoyance, to say the least. Her charm was annoying, her personality was annoying, and everything about her pissed of the exile. How could she be so carefree and friendly to everyone? What was she up to? Something about the way she acted set off alarms in the exile's head.

"What do you want, fox?" she asked, grunting when her sword made impact with another dummy. She didn't mean to sound so harsh but then again, she didn't really care.

The only thing that mattered to her was Noxus and her strength. There was no room to care about anything else.

"Don't call me that," Ahri snapped, irritated with the exile's tone towards her.

"Fine. Is there a reason you're bothering me?" Riven rushed forward and attacked the stationary targets, not a single trace of hesitation in her movements.

In battle, there was no time for hesitation.

Riven was strong. She did not hesitate or dream.

"I…"

Ahri, on the other hand, hesitates. She hesitates, and that's enough for Riven to stop paying attention.

Riven intentionally ignores Ahri and continues her exercises.

After a moment, Ahri leaves, knowing her presence was unwanted.

Riven had no time for hesitation.


	2. Words and Truth

Riven appreciated action.

Like any other person raised by Noxian ideals, she didn't care much for words. Why fight with words when one could fight with their fists, something more concrete? People lied all the time, but actions were always true.

A fist to the face never lied.

She was training (as always) when Ahri approached her once again.

Riven was interrupted with a bouquet of flowers being shoved in her face.

The Noxian peeked over the flowers with a raised brow. "What's the meaning of this?"

"They're for you," Ahri answered simply.

"So I've assumed," Riven deadpanned. "Why are you giving me flowers?"

"I want to ask you out on date, isn't it obvious?"

"No," she said, and returned to her exercises.

"W-wait!"

"What do you want?" Riven snapped, irritation evident in her voice.

"Why won't you go out with me?" Ahri whined.

"I never said I wouldn't."

The mage blinked. "You didn't?"

"No, I was answering your question of whether or not it was obvious."

"So… you will?" Ahri asked hopefully.

"No."

Ahri pouted. "Why not?" she whined. "Am I not attractive enough for you?"

"No."

The mage flinched back like she'd been struck, which she might as well have been. "Me? Not attractive to you? Are you blind?"

"No, you're just not my type."

"Then what is your type?" Ahri asked, hands on her hips.

"Strong," was all she answered.

"I can be strong," Ahri protested. "I'm not the best mage there is, but I'm still good enough to be in the League!"

"Magic isn't strength," Riven simply stated, and went back to her training.

Ahri frowned as Riven continued to ignore her attempts at wooing the warrior.

This was going to be a lot harder than she'd thought.


	3. Bets and Bread

Ahri was _pissed_.

"And then she said I wasn't her type! Can you believe it?!" she exclaimed, exasperated. How could someone not find her sexy? It was an unfathomable concept until today. She still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Wukong snorted in amusement. "You're not my type either, babe. Why are you so surprised not everyone finds you attractive?"

"Okay, first of all, you're a monkey," Ahri said. "Second of all, she's decidedly _not_. I'm supposed to be irresistible to humans!"

"Your charm is supposed to be irresistible, not you," Wukong pointed out. "And as per our bet, you can't use it."

Ah yes, the bet. The bet that Ahri would be able to woo the hardened warrior within a month without using any kind of magic. The bet she was about to lose.

She really, _really_ didn't want to lose. After all, Soraka's famous banana bread was pretty expensive, and Ahri didn't like sharing.

She had half a mind to ask Zilean to send her back in time just so she could beat up her past self and her stupid pride for agreeing to this bet.

The other half of her mind told her that she could still win, that she could still win Riven's heart and prove Wukong wrong about her not being able to get anyone she wanted. More importantly, she would win more of Soraka's banana bread, and Wukong would have to eat his own words. After all, he wouldn't have any banana bread to eat.

Her mouth began to water just at the thought of the food, and she snapped back into reality when she remembered that she was at risk of losing it all.

"But I _am_ irresistible, Wu," she insisted. "Or at least, I'm supposed to be," she mumbled.

She frowned, rubbing her chin in thought. What did Riven say was her ideal type? Strong? Did that mean she wanted her significant other to have muscles? She did say that she didn't consider magic to be strong, so that must have meant that she was attracted to physical strength.

Ahri wanted to groan.

She really, _really_ didn't want to go and work out. She wouldn't admit it, but she was rather lazy. And by rather, she meant very. For a moment, she contemplated dying instead.

Dying meant that she wouldn't have to work out, and she wouldn't have to worry about the bet. However, that meant she wouldn't get to eat anymore of Soraka's banana bread and other good foods.

Her gluttony quickly won over her desire to not deal with things and she found herself making her way to the Institute's gym.


End file.
